Dragon Brave
by Starkiller501
Summary: Hiccup's always known that life on Berk wasn't for him. There were too many people causing too many problems, but a challenge awaits him, and running away from your problems can come back and haunt you. Cover Image is NOT mine.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I only own my characters and plot, but not Httyd or characters that may originate from said movie/show/book.

_ **LINEBREAK_**

 _This is Berk. It's twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of misery. My village. In a word, sturdy. It's been here for several generations, but every single building is new._

 _It has fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets, but the one problem is the pests. You see, while most people have mice or mosquitoes, we have dragons._

 _Most people would leave. Not us. We're vikings, and we have stubbornness issues. It's an occupational hazard._

 _We have an entire village of people to wage war against the dragons, and yet we lose more sheep, more yaks, and more fish with every single raid._

 _The entire village of people that are supposed to wage the war? All vikings. Me? Not so much. I'm scrawny. I'm weak. I'm a fishbone, and my father can barely look me in the eyes without the scowls of disappointment stealing the loving glances of a true father._

 _The only person that relatively likes me on this hell-hole is Gobber, the meat-headed drunk that was more of a father to me than my actual dad. He's our blacksmith, and I've been his apprentice since I was little. Well, little-er, anyway._

 _There are five teenagers my age: their all true vikings. First there's Snotlout: He's a brute and he's evil, and he's brainless and arrogant. Next, we have Fishlegs: he's okay, he doesn't shove me into walls, punch me, or tell me I'm useless, but he generally ignores me. The guy's basically a talking book of dragons, so he knows more than most of us. Then you have the twins. I don't really know who's more destructive: Ruffnut or Tuffnut, but their both a part of Snotlout's crew and thus hate me._

 _Finally, we have the Valkryie, Astrid Hofferson. She's the definition of beautiful. She's like Fishlegs though: She ignores me, brushes me off because talking to me is basically social suicide. Like Fishlegs, she actually has a respectable quality: she's a warrior. She fights, trains, and works harder than anyone from her generation. Beauty comes with a bite, and she's no exception._

 _Their all part of the fire brigade. Their job is so much cooler than mine; while they get to put out fires, I'm stuck cooling metal, sharpening swords, and giving weapons to people who know how to use them better than I do, and probably better than I will ever. I want to get out there, to make my name worthy of a chief, but I'm stuck sharpening other's swords. How pointless, they're going to need sharpening again within a week._

 _The only way at this point to recover any social standing, for me, would be to kill a dragon. A Deadly Nadder would at least get me noticed. A Gronkle will definitely get me a girlfriend. A Hideous Zippleback? Exotic. Dangerous. Two heads, twice the status. Then there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best vikings get to deal with these dragons. Why? Because they have a coat of saliva on their skin that can be set on fire on command, and a nasty habit of doing so._

 _But the real prize, is the one that no-one has ever seen before. It's called the Night Fury. I will be the first, not just to see one, but to kill it, and maybe recover some sliver of my social standing, at least enough so that my father can look me in the eyes._

 _Im going to go after it._

 _I will kill that dragon_. _I refuse to be "Hiccup the Useless."_

- _HHH III_

 **_LINEBREAK_**

A gust of wind slammed his journal closed. He looked up, out his window, into the sky. Suddenly, with a thunderous roar and flash of red and black scales, his house burst into flames.


	2. A Deadly Pursuit

_A gust of wind slammed his journal closed. He looked up, out his window, into the sky. Suddenly, with a thunderous roar and flash of red and black scales, his house burst into flames._

Screaming, he tore out of the house, slamming the flaming door shut with all his might, and began to race through the village, ducking and weaving his way between burning buildings and hordes of Vikings rampaging towards him, headed for wherever the raid of the day decided it wanted to happen.

"What are you doin' out her'? Get back inside!" "Are ya' blind, there's a raid going on! Get back inside!" These and many other obscenities were shouted at him as he was nearly trampled by the large-statured villagers. The words didn't affect him, he'd heard it all before. No one in this, his village, believed that he was strong enough to complete his goals.

He'd prove them wrong, he just had to figure out how.

Finally, the rickety Blacksmith's shop was in sight. _Funny. Out of all the times a building had caught_ _fire on Berk, you wouldn't think a blacksmith's shop would be the longest standing, and while all the other buildings are currently burning down, the forge is perfectly fine._ The simple musing was forgotten as Hiccup continued scrambling towards the smithy. Suddenly, he was yanked off the ground, so hard he almost thought it was a dragon. _Is this really how I die? Before I even get my chance to try killing a dragon, I'm eaten by one? Really?_

Hell, a Terrible Terror could probably yank him off his feet.

He was brought face to face with a red haired, burly viking, who was holding him up by the scruff of his shirt. "What is he doin' out- What are you doing outside? Get back inside!" The red-hot anger on his face was unmistakable and Hiccup was thrown, left in staggering run towards the smithy.

 _Stoick the Vast. Aptly named for his vast size, chief of the village. They say when he was just a baby he popped a dragon's skull clean off it's shoulders. Do I believe it? Yes. Yes, I do._

Hiccup's thoughts whirred, and as he clambered into the smithy, the one-armed, one-legged blacksmith that he'd come to call his mentor, said heartily, "Ah. Nice of you to join the party. I thought you'd been carried off." "Who me? Nah, I'm way too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all of this." Hiccup replied, donning his leather apron and flexing as he lifted up a hammer to be put up on it's rack.

Despite most people's beliefs, Hiccup did actually have some muscle, but the weapons that the Vikings used were so bulky and heavy that he could barely lift them.

"Well they need toothpicks, don't they?" Gobber said, scratching his golden beard, pondering the thought. Suddenly a large Deadly Nadder dive-bombed a house only a few paces away from the forge. A huge flame erupted from the scene, and Hiccup hoped no one had been in the house.

"FIRE!" A man yelled loudly, loud enough to grab his attention sending him rushing to the window, watching as all five members of the Fire Brigade charged out into the picture,

ASTRID.

 _Oh Gods. She's so beautiful. They're all so much cooler than me._

Caught in his star-struck gazing, he didn't notice the _click_ of Gobber's peg-leg against the ground, as the burly man sauntered towards him. All of the sudden, he was yanked back into the smithy. "C'mon Gobber. I need to make my mark." Hiccup sulked.

"Oh you've made many marks. All in the wrong places."

"Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get a date."

"Heccup, listen here, you can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these." The moment he lifted the bola, it was snatched out of his hand by a viking and thrown, hitting it's target wrapped around the legs of a purple Nadder.

"O-Ok, but this will throw it for me" he said, gesturing wildly to the wheel-barrow-like contraption behind him, seemingly his downfall, as he accidentally hit the contraption, and a bola was sent sailing straight into the face of a viking.

"See now, this right here, is exactly what I'm talking about!"

"M-M-Mild calibration issue."

"Hiccup, If you ever want to get out there, and fight dragons, you need to stop being all..." Gobber's hands flew threw the air, until they reached a stopping point, gesturing toward Hiccup, "...this."

"Ooohh"

"Ooohhh yes," Gobber mocked.

"You, You sir, are playing a very dangerous game. Keeping this raw viking-ness contained. THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES!"

"Yea, I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now."

He thrust a sword into Hiccup's arms, and Hiccup todled over to the grinding wheel.

 _Killing a dragon is everything around here. Noone is willing to give me a chance. My father always scowls in disappointment at me, my own cousin and his friends think it's alright to beat me, and my ex-best friends just sit there and watch. The entire village hates me. I'm an outcast in the village I'm sworn to lead one day, because I was born to an unfit father._ _The moment I strike down that Night Fury, things will change. Everyone will see, I'm not "Hiccup the Useless_

The blonde-bearded, rock-toothed blacksmith's voice brought him back to attention.

"Hold down the fort. They need ME out there." He said, ambling around gathering weapons, and when all was said and done, he had an axe in each hand and bolas wrapped around his shoulders. Gesturing to Hiccup, he ordered "Stay. Put. There. Y'know wha' I mean."

Hiccup then watched as his mentor charged into the flaming village, brave faced and ready to fight.

 _This is it. This is my chance to show them all that their wrong._

Grabbing the wheel-barrow-like arms of his bola launcher, he wheeled it, again darting through burning buildings and vikings telling him to get back inside. He, of course, ignored them, instead darting to the highest point he could, using most of his strength to get the contraption up the slope, stopping before a sheer cliff. In the distance beside him, there were catapults being utilized against the dragons, and burning towers were raised far behind him in an attempt to see the Night Fury.

It wouldn't work, Hiccup knew. The dragon was too fast. The moment he arrived at the hill, he snapped the laucher's pieces into place, lifted the crossbow-like trigger, and got into position. "C'mon, gimme something to shoot at, gimme something to shoot at."

Well he got his wish. A flash in the corner of his eye alerted him to the Night Fury's presence. Out in the distance far above the sea soared a darker than night dragon. Suddenly, It picked up speed, flew higher, and with a loud whistle, blew up a catapult tower, in a large blue ball of fire, and darted off in Hiccup's direction. Taking his chance, he carefully aimed, took the shot, and as he was being thrown back into the grass by the machine, the whipping sounds of a bola met the roar of a dragon.

"I hit it!" He scrambled to his feet enthusiastically. "I actually hit it! Did anyone see that?" Then, suddenly there was a menacing growl behind him. He hesitantly turned around. There was a giant Monstrous Nightmare now in front of him, and it was not fond of him.

"Except for you."

Screaming, Hiccup bolted back down the cliff, closely followed by the blazing Monstrous Nightmare. He ran harder than he ever had before. He scrambled down to duck behind the blazing towers raised in a futile attempt to repel the Nightmare.

Slamming his back against the tower, he leaned his head, ever so slowly, to the pole's right side. As he began to look, a rush of heat blazed against his neck from the other side. Throwing his head to the left, he was suddenly a hair's width from the jaws of the beast in pursuit of him.

A thunderous war cry echoed out as Stoick appeared out of the corner of Hiccup's eye, distracting the dragon. The man practically tackled the beast, hitting hard with his hammer. It recoiled in pain, and tried to spew fire at him, but only a small ember escaped his mouth. "You're all out.''

Fear became evident in the Nightmare's eyes. Watching as the Nightmare flew away. "Sorry, Dad." Suddenly, the torch tower Hiccup had behind fell, causing it's flaming, circular mount, to crash through the many bridges dow towards the docks, Hiccup wincing with each bridge it hit. "Ok, but I hit a Night Fury." Fuming, Stoick grabbed onto the back of his shirt, and yanked him towards their house.

"It's not like the last few times, Dad. I mean I really actually hit it. You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot. It went down, just off Raven Point. Let's get a search party out there, before it-" Hiccup rambled, trying with all his might to get his father to let go so he could show him.

"STOP. Just, stop." Stoick ordered, disappointment clear as crystal in his tone. "Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed."

Glancing around, and catching sight of more than a few wide vikings, Hiccup scoffed. "Between you and me, the village could go with a little less feeding, don't ya' think?"

"This is not a joke Hiccup! Why can't you follow the simplest orders?" He yelled in exasperation.

"I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just... kill it, you know? It's who I am, Dad."

"You are many things, Hiccup. But a dragon killer is not one of them."

Glancing around, he caught sight of almost the entire village nodding in agreement. "Get home."

Now Stoick was talking to the one legged blacksmith. "Make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up."

"Quite the performance." Tuffnut remarked.

"I've never seen anyone mess up that badly. That helped!" Snotlout Jorgensen. The resident bully, or as Hiccup like to call him 'Snotlout the Stupid.'

"Thank you, thank you. I was trying, so..." Hiccup sarcastically gave in, avoiding Astrid's glare completely, and they walked on toward Hiccup and Stoick's house, which was surprisingly still standing, and not burnt to a crisp.

"I really did hit one."

"Sure ya' did."

"He never listens."

"Well it runs in the family,"

"And when he does it's always with this... Disappointed scowl, like someone skipped on the meat in his sandwich," Now mocking Stoick, he marched in an overexagerated fashion, flailing his arms up higher, "Excuse me, barmaid, I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring. I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here. This is a talking fish bone."

Shaking his head at Hiccup's antics, Gobber attempted to help "You're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like. It's what's inside that he can't stand."

"Thank you, for summing that up." Hiccup turns and opens the door, thinking the conversation was over. "Hiccup, what I mean is stop trying be something you're not."

With a glance back, Hiccup had a hurt expression and spoke in a low tone, "I just wanna be one of you guys."

And with that, he walked into the house, depressed expression and all...

And he ran straight out the backdoor, determined to prove himself.

 **LINEBREAK**

Stoick was, understandably, angry at his son. After all, he had cause the multiple bridges now in need of repair to burn or fall because of the tower. After taking care of the duties still required of him as chief after a raid, he called a mandatory village meeting. They were Vikings after all, they needed to rid themselves of the pests before they all died off from hunger.

At the meeting, while loud voices, protesting at ridiculous ideas proposed by some villager on another, echoed through the Great Hall, the burly man stood in front of a large nautical map. On one side of the map stood Berk, in all it's glory, proud and strong village, nestled on a cluster of sea stacks and a mountain rising up from the sea. On the other side, however, was hell. It was no man's land. It was Helheim's Gate, a ship graveyard, covered in thick fog, almost impossible to navigate. Unless you were a dragon, that is. Shouting, he raged, "Either we finish them, or they finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home." Lifting his arm up, and thrusting his large hunting knife into the mountain on the map, thought to be the dragons' nest, which was decorated with dragons flying around it. "One more search, before the ice sets in."

"Those ships never come back!"

Stoick, narrowed eyes and rigid arms, scanned the hall for the protester. Unable to single them out, he sighed. The red haired man was no stranger to doubt, but hated when his choices were so blatantly questioned and they didn't have the courage to say it to him, face-to-face. "We're Vikings It's an occupational hazard. Now who's with me?" Thrusting his sword up into the air, he expected more villagers rallied to get rid of their problem.

Instead, heads were scratched, gazes averted, and necks were rubbed nervously.

Stoick heard a viking say "Today's not good for me. I've got to do my axe returns." but other than that, it was silent in the hall.

Less rigid, he said, "Alright. Those who stay will look after Hiccup."

Suddenly, every hand in the hall shot up. Excited murmurs and chatter reached his ears. "To the ships!" Phlegma the Fierce howled. "I'm with you Stoick!" Spitelout cried out. That's more like it, He thought dryly, having known that the trick would work.

As everyone left the hall, still chattering, he turned to speak to Gobber.

"Great. I'll go pack ma' skivvies."

"No, Gobber, I need you to stay and train some new recruits." Stoick said firmly, wishing for that to be the end of the conversation, but somehow knowing it wasn't.

"Oh, Great, and while I'm busy, Hiccup can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to himself... What could possibly go wrong?'

Slowly sinking onto the bench next to Gobber, he sighed. "What am I going to do with him, Gobber?"

"Put'em in training with the others." "No, I'm serious." Stoick droned. "So am I." Stoick glared at him, angrily rebutting, "He'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of it's cage."

"Oh, you don't know that."

"I do know that, actually."

"No you don't."

"No, actually I do."

"No you don't!"

"Listen," Stoick sighed. "You know what 'e's like. From the time he could crawl he's been... different. He doesn't listen. Has the attention span of a sparrow. I take him fishing and he goes hunting for.. for trolls!"

Gobber got defensive, seeing as he believed in trolls. "Trolls exist! They steal your socks!" Then more darkly added. "But only the left one's... What's with that?"

"When I was a boy..."

"Oh here we go." Gobber grumbled, remembering that this was Hiccup's father and the family was prone to ranting.

"My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him. And you know what happened?"

"You got a headache." Gobber said, taking a sip of his warm mead, not really caring where the conversation was going.

"That rock split in two. It taught me what a viking could do," Gesturing wildly, he continued his lecture. "He could crush mountains, tame seas, level forests. Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become." Stoick sighed, for what seemed like the millionth time that night. "Hiccup is not that boy." He said, beaten.

Now it was Gobber's turn to sigh. "Stoick you can't stop him, you can only prepare him. Look, I know it seems hopeless. But the truth is you won't always be around to protect him. He's gonna get out there again! He's probably out there now!" Gobber's words hit their mark, and as the stone-toothed meathead left the hall, he stared up at the statue hanging from the roof. A famous dragon breed, the Grapple Grounder with a sword thrust through it's long snakelike body.. The legend of the Grapple Grounder was a common one. They were hunted to near extinction by hunters of a distant land. When Berk had become a village, they took the emblem of a Grapple Grounder, stabbed twice through the chest to signify that they were strong and smart, like the hunters that killed them off. They were so rare nowadays, that they had faded into myth.

How Stoick wished that his son could be more like the hunters of the Grapple Grounder. Strong. Tough. How he wished his son could be more like a viking.

Meanwhile...

Hiccup's journal, wide open in his hands, contained a hand-drawn map of The Isle of Berk on it. On said map, multiple X's were drawn, signifying places where he hadn't found his target: he was searching for the Night Fury. He was searching for proof.

"Oh the Gods hate me. Some people lose their knife or their mug. Not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon!" Hiccup vented, aggravation clear in his tone. He whacked a low hanging branch, not expecting any consequence from mother nature. THWACK! The branch slammed right back into his face. Though, consequence turned out to be reward when Hiccup got over the pain, and realized that branch he had hit was from a half downed tree. "What the?" Something really heavy had fallen on the side of the tree and mangled it.

Perhaps, a dragon?

He trailed down the rocky slope, a large boulder the only thing in his line of sight. When he reached the boulder, he looked over it, only to duck back down quicker than lightning. There, on the other side of the rock, was a black dragon, wrapped up in a bola.

Slowly treading around the boulder, he saw that the dragon was small but long, almost three of him from head to tail tip though it was hard to tell it's wingspan, he could tell it was large, because the wings seemed to make up most of the size of its torso. It was pure black, and it's head was an oblong shape, with two large.. things coming off the top of it's head and three smaller ones in the middle. Ears, Hiccup called them, just because he didn't really know what they were.

"I did it!" Hiccup hurrahed. "Oh, this fixes everything!"

No more would he be ridiculed in front of everybody. No more would he be called "Useless." No more would his Father look at him in disappointment

"I have brought down this mighty beast" He said in triumph, placing his foot against the dragon's chest. Suddenly, the dragon shifted. he gasped, falling back, and glued himself against the large boulder behind him. Steeling himself, he stood up, and walked around his wing, to where he could see it's eyes, and grasped his hunting knife. "I'm gonna kill you dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I am a viking. I am a viking!" Steeling himself, yet again, he raised his dagger above his head.

But staring into the dragon's eyes, which were toxic green, and slit much like a cat's, he saw something. It was fear. It was acceptance. The dragon knew he was going to die. Hiccup knew this, because the same look was in his eyes every time he looked into a puddle of water. The dragon closed his eyes. his knife fell back down, flat against his own head. "I did this." He muttered, ashamedly. He almost threw his knife. He started to walk away, but... A sawing noise woke the dragon. Hiccup tore at the ropes with his knife, freeing the dragon from one... two... three ropes.

Suddenly, he was pounced upon. Pinned between the dragons claw and the boulder, all he could think was I'm about to die. He deserved it he knew, as punishment for almost killing the dragon angrily glaring into his eyes. The dragon tensed, drew back, Hiccup flinched and closed his eyes. A loud shriek was screamed into his face. The dragon twirled, and ran. Hiccup stood up, and watched as the dragon flew away. Or tried to, at least. Turning around, he tried to walk, but he didn't even get a step in before the knife slipped out of his grasp and everything went black.


	3. Failed Negotiations

Hey guys. So, in the last chapter, I included my thoughts about why we haven't seen a Grapple Grounder in the series yet. That subject will be more important later. I don't really know what else to say here, so I'm just going to reply to some comments and be done with it. Sorry, my schedule is officially crazy, and I've had no time free time since July.

 **THE COMPLETE SIGNAL WAS A MISTAKE. I'M NOT SURE HOW THAT HAPPENED.**

Guest: I'm not sure, I never pay enough attention to the franchise to even consider writing an Alien/Predator fic.

Guest: Now what fun are spoilers?

 **_LINEBREAK_**

 _Turning around, he tried to walk, but he didn't even get a step in before the knife slipped out of his grasp and everything went black._ Hours later, Hiccup wearily entered their home, emerald eyes trained on the floor. His dad sat on a thick slice of tree trunk in front of the blazing hearth, stirring the coals with his axe. Noticing this, and thinking his father was still angry, Hiccup quietly tried to sneak past, and almost succeeded in getting halfway up the stairs to his room before a loud sigh came from his Father that stopped him in his tracks. "Hiccup."

"Dad. Uh..."

Stoick, standing, inhales a deep, calming breath.

"I need to talk to you, Dad.." Hiccup said, nervous.

"I need to speak with you too, son." They both straightened at that moment, preparing for what they say. Stoick was preparing himself to give his son a chance that could get him killed. Hiccup was preparing to deny that chance.

"I've decided I don't want to fight dragons." "I think it's time you learn to fight dragons." They said, The former sentence belonging to Hiccup, the latter his father. Having said the sentence in unison, neither could understand what the other said.

"What?" They chorused, once again in unison.

"You go first." Stoick offered.

"No you go first." Hiccup deflected, hoping he hadn't heard what he thought he had.

Drawing in a deep breath, Stoick clarified, "Alright. You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning." Though he was still unsure of this movement, Stoick thought it was for the best. Hiccup, after the day's events, however, did not.

Scrambling to get out of this predicament, Hiccup rambled, "Oh man, I should've gone first. Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know we have a surplus of dragon fighting vikings, but do we have enough bread-making vikings, or small-home repair vikings?" "You'll need this." Stoick ignored his rant, thrusting an axe larger than the boy himself into his arms. "I don't want to fight dragons." Hiccup stated bluntly. However, his father laughed him off. "Come on. Yes, you do." Getting desperate, Hiccup decided to try again. "Rephrase, I can't kill dragons." "But you _will_ kill dragons." "No, I'm very extra sure that I won't." Hiccup rebutted, trying to shove the axe back into his father's hands.

"It's time, Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?"

"This is serious son!" Stoick forces the axe into Hiccup's hands, and the weight of it drags him down. He looks up at his father, whose stern expression was half lit with firelight.

"When you carry this axe... You carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us. No more of... This." Stoick said, gesturing at multiple parts of Hiccup's body before gesturing non-specifically at him. "You just gestured to all of me."

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided?"

"Deal?!" Stoick repeated angrily.

Glancing at his new axe, Hiccup realized there was no chance of winning this argument. Sighing he leant his axe against the wall. "Deal."

Grabbing his large duffel bag and axe, the long-bearded man said one last sentence before leaving the house. "Good. Train hard. I'll be back. Probably."

And Hiccup replied, "And I'll be here. Maybe."

He lay awake that night, thinking about his father and dreading tomorrow.

 _The next day..._

The fire-brigade marched purposefully into the training arena. The village was practically empty, as most of the villagers had left to destroy the nest. There were only about 20 people left in the village, including children and teens. A chained roof over a circular hall, the only entrance guarded by a steel door that was lowered by a lever. All around, there were 5 doors, specifically made to house a type of dragon. Behind them, lied the challenges they would have to overcome to become full fledged members of there community.

Gobber, ever so happily, put dramatic flair into his introduction. "Welcome to Dragon Training."

"No turning back." Astrid broadcast, cracking her neck.

"I hope I get some serious burns." Tuffnut said, with his ever-charming viking demeanor. "I'm hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder or lower back." His twin replied. "It's only fun if you get a scar out of it." Astrid voiced, overhearing the conversation of the other 2 blondes in the room. "Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain. Love it." Hiccup said, sounding overly careless. All the other teens in the room groaned. He even heard Tuffnut say, "Oh great. Who let him in?"

Gobber, ignoring the chatter, continued. "Let's get started. The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village."

"Hiccup's already killed a Night Fury, so does that disqualify him or...?" Snotlout joked. The snickers of the other teens reached Hiccup's ears, along with Tuffnut's request to switch to the class with the cool vikings. Gobber threw an arm around him, and pulled him off to the side of the ring. "Don't worry. You're small and weak. That'll make you less of a target. They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead." He'd been trying to reassure Hiccup, but all it did was make him feel worse.

Letting Hiccup back into the line, he continued his introduction. "Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight. The Deadly Nadder," He said, gesturing to a triangular shaped door.

Hiccup heard Fishlegs, the teen next to him say "Speed eight. Armor Sixteen." Under his breath as he bounced giddily.

Pointing at the next door, Gobber continued, "The Hideous Zippleback,"

"Plus eleven stealth. Times two.'

"The Monstrous Nightmare,"

"Firepower fifteen."

"The Terrible Terror,"

"Attack eight. Venom twelve."

By now, Fishlegs was half yelling the stats that he had memorized, giddy at the thought of putting them to use.

"Will you stop that?!" Gobber shouted. Honestly the kid was a know-it-all. "and, the Gronkle."

"Jaw strength eight." Fishlegs whispered to himself, though everyone could hear him. As Gobber placed his hand on the lever that would let the dragoon out into the arena, Snotlout protested, "Wait. Aren't you going to teach us first!?" Gobber's response was simple. "I believe in learning on the job." And with that the lever was pulled, and a Gronkle burst out of the cage, huffing angrily, searching for a target.

The recruits scrambled, save Tuffnut and Ruffnut, who decide charging the angry beast was a better idea. "Today is all about survival. If you get blasted, you're dead. Quick, what's the first thing you're going to need. _Is he really trying to teach with an angry, ready-to-kill-us dragon is in the room?_ Hiccup thought. "A doctor?" Hiccup replied, getting a quick shake of the head from Gobber. "Plus five speed?" Fishlegs inquired, eyes off the dragon, also receiving a 'no.' "A shield!" Astrid said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Shields. Go." Gobber commanded, sending each teen sprawling for shields.

Hiccup was hidden behind the shield rack, peering out, watching the other teens get totally demolished by the dragon. By the time he was addressed, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs, and Snotlout were all out. "Get out there Hiccup. Yer' not even trying!" Gobber barked. As Hiccup crept out of his hidden spot, a large blast of molten rock knocked his shield away, and as he sprawled after it, running as hard as he could, with the Gronkle chasing after him.

Suddenly, he was pinned to a wall, Gronkle readying to send him to his fiery demise. "HICCUP!" Gobber screamed, Using his hook to drag the dragon away. He harshly shoved the dragon as hard as he could back into it's cage. "Go back ta' bed, ya' ova'grown earthworm." He faced his class, lime eyes glinting in anger. He stormed directly towards Hiccup, and for a moment, Hiccup thought he was a goner. "Everyone remember that dragons always..." He stared directly at Hiccup, piercing eyes peering directly into his soul. "go for tha' kill."

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	4. Interlude - Escape

_15 Sólmánuður, 300 years after the beginning of the Viking-Dragon war._

 _These past couple of weeks have been so stressful, and now I have to kill a dragon, while hiding the fact that I have one as a friend._

 _Oh yeah, let's roll it back a bit. After that day in the ring, I went back out into the forest to observe the Night Fury. Some things happened, and now he's my best and only friend. I found out he was missing half a tail, built a prosthetic, and ultimately destroyed my chances of ever being normal._

 _Things have changed in the village too. I've used the tricks I learned training the Night Fury. They love this special type of grass. It practically turns them into over grown cats, so I've taken to calling it "dragon nip." They're also terrified of eels. Not my favorite either._

 _Unfortunately this has only made Astrid increasingly suspicious, and not that I'm complaining, but the sudden popularity isn't what I wanted from the village. I wanted to be one of the guys, not to be treated to a pedestal of torture, especially one built on lies._

 _What makes things worse, is the knowledge that if I told the truth, I'd be disowned and exiled. Not that that sounds super unappealing. I'm so sick of Snotlout and the Twins. They still treat me like garbage. A week of popularity doesn't make up for years of treating me like garbage._

 _Oh yeah, the Night Fury's name? It's about as bad as mine. I named him Toothless because of his retractable teeth._

 _I can't take living here anymore. I refuse to take an innocent creatures life. These dragons are forced to steal food from us, because of their queen, and then slaughtered by us when they have no control over their actions._

 _I know Toothless wants the open air against his scales too. I catch him staring longingly at the sky every night, after we fly. It's so amazing, being in the sky with him, too._

 _So I've decided. It'd be best if I left Berk, and never returned. Toothless matters more to me than anyone here. However, I'm going to need a plan. and a weapon that I actually know how to use. Even If I hadn't thrown my dagger into the lake, it's useless against wild boars, or any other type of prey. I refuse to let Toothless hunt for me..._

 _His idea of food is regurgitated fish. Blegh._

 _We're leaving. I can finally get out of here. It's like a dream._

 _-Hiccup Horrendus Haddock III_


	5. Smouldered Flame

Hey guys! I've realized that throughout transcribing the movie, I've neglected a few key elements to a good story. I'm going to go back and make edits, for characters and for length. For now, on with the story. On another note, I'm sorry this has taken me so long! I lost my motivation there for awhile.

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 _"Everyone remember that dragons always..."_ _He stared directly at Hiccup, piercing eyes gazing into his soul, "Always go for tha' kill."_

Hiccup grunted, sweat rolling down his face as he pounded hot metal. The last few days had been rough, and Toothless needed a new tailfin, and since he was leaving soon with no idea when he would get access to a forge again, he'd decided to make a spare.

He'd been testing out some new flight styles with the night fury, and been making considerable progress. But things had gotten complicated when a deadly nadder appeared. It did not get along well with Toothless, and Hiccup left the cove that day with burns on his arms (hopefully he'd be able to convincingly lie and say he'd nearly fallen asleep at the forge), cuts on his face, and the need to make Toothless a new tailfin.

He'd long since realized he needed to leave Berk, and soon, but he hadn't been able to find a perfect weapon. The ones the vikings required too much brute force, and knowing his smaller stature, though he wasn't as weak as everyone chose to believe, he'd be killed before he was even able to lift the weapon. Traditional viking weapons were too heavy and wieghed him down too much. He needed speed, and something he could use with strategy, and maces just didn't make the mark.

He hadn't yet come up with a plan either. Every time he'd thought of something, there were too many logical errors in it that would give him away. Plain out disappearing? If he wanted the Berkians actively searching for him, that would totally work. But he didn't so... Dragon Attack? No, because someone was bound to eventually realize that his so called 'strength' in the arena didn't match up with what he'd been killed by, and he couldn't bring himself to ask the Night Fury to burn the cove, it was too much of a beautiful place to be wrecked by his need for an escape.

He'd lost himself over and over to these thoughts, growing continually frustrated with his inability to come up with a plan. To add to his stress, his father was due back late the next evening, and he'd wanted to make his escape before he'd gotten back. The metal clanged loudly as he lashed at it with his hammer, pounding his frustrations, his rage at his inbility to escape the prison he was locked in at birth. He was so caught up, he didn't notice a certain blonde angrily march into the forge.

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Astrid Hofferson was miffed and befuddled, and understandably so. How had the little twig of a viking, a person who so perfectly matched his namesake, beat her multiple times in the arena? He'd spent his whole life, dissapointing the village, disappointing his own father, and all of the sudden, he just magically gets good at fighting dragons? She didn't think so. He had to have been training with someone, or something. For Valhalla's sake, she'd watched him dissapear into the woods every day after training and even had tried following him, but she lost his trail when he'd dissapeared behind a boulder. He might have been an utter clutz, but he was stealthy.

He'd practically become a celebrity in the village, and that was weird. He hadn't been anything special before dragon training, so why is he suddenly so good now?

All of these thoughts pinging at her nerves, pounding at her brain until she finally gave in to anger and frustration, were the reason she'd marched so angrilly into the forge. She was going to give Fishbone a piece of her mind. She strutted into that forge, pouncing like a panther on it's prey.

"You gonna tell me how the hell you got so good in the ring, or am I going to have to force it out of you?"

She cooly inquired of him, dragging him away from his work by the ear, the other holding her axe, poised to strike. He was in no mood to deal with this, and he bit back with a venom he didn't know he had. "Let go of me, princess, or did you forget that we're not friends?" Her hand slipped away from his him, a look of shock replacing her collected expression. No-one disrespected her. She was a Hofferson, raised with pride, taught how to be a better warrior than anyone on the island. The Hofferson's were one of the most prestigious families on Berk, crossing them meant certain death...

So why hadn't she hurt him yet?

Perhaps it was because she, on some level, still wished them to be friends. Perhaps it was because she didn't want to risk the exile or execution she would face for maiming the Berkian heir, even if that heir was Hiccup, or perhaps she just didn't have the stomach to wound him. He didn't know. All he knew was his relief that she left with an "I guess," and an annoyed huff.

And the fuel she just added to his flaming desire of escape was enough to burn a building.

He no longer saw her for the sparkling beauty that he had not so long ago. He had watched as her desire to be a warrior overran her care for anything else. As children, the two were unseperable, but as she got older, more and more of her attention was devoted to training, until she had abandoned their friendship all together.

Maybe it was better this way, it certainly made leaving easier for him.

His attraction to her was replaced with pity. She would never feel a connection, never have the strong bond he had with Toothless, and would most likely never be loved by any of the other poor, unfortunate souls caught in her venus flytrap.

Their infatuation would fade, and they'd slowly realize she had no use for them, nor desire to be with them. He wished this upon no-one, and couldn't help but think that he was a fool for not seeing it sooner.

These thoughts swirling in his mind as he watched the blonde stomp out of the forge. He had the strange sense that after he left, their story wouldn't be over.

"That was weird." He spoke, to no-one in particular, a looming shadow in his mind. He probably shouldn't have said what he did, but he would not be sticking around long enough to feel her wrath.

His mind sped at a thousand miles a minute, as he reached for his hammer and began pounding the metal again, deciding he would be better off sleeping at the forge that night, seeing as he would most likely be there until very late anyways.

It gave him time to figure out what he would do, and as he pounded away at the rod he was building for the tailfin, he couldn't help but wonder what lie in store for him and his giant, scaled friend.

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The next morning, Hiccup awoke to a desk with drawings strewn about, half plans he had made, the others sketches of Toothless, a red Deadly Nadder, and other random dragons, a few Gronkles, a Terrible Terror or two. He couldn't help but grin to himself, as he looked at the plans in his hands. All he needed now was a weapon, then he could leave this place. He felt a small amount of sorrow as he peered out the storeroom window. He'd miss Gobber. He couldn't let this chance be wasted. He'd formulated the perfect plan.

He was going to kill himself, or so they'd think.

His plan was simple. He was going to write his father, Gobber, and Astrid fake notes, proclaiming he had thrown himself off a cliff.

To make it more believeable, he had to get Toothless to retrieve his hunting knife from the lake. The dragon was not happy about this, but it had to be done, such as in war, sacrifices had to be made in order to ensure their survival. He used his knife, tearing off his tunic and fur vest from his torso, and dug his knife into it, slashing, a large tear into the fabric.

The next part wasn't fun: He'd held out his hand and cut into it with the knife, a large slash, gripping his fist over his clothes, he used his blood, slathering it around the cuts he'd made, and around his shoulders to make it look like he'd gotten some semblance of a head injury.

He then threw them over the cliff.

He found himself in the cove, writing his letters. Toothless butted his injured hand with his head, and trilled in concern. Hiccup gazed into The Night Fury's eyes as he did this, Poison Green meeting Emerald. "I had to, bud. They would never have believed that my shirt was torn off without me getting injured. I just hope this works."

Now the letters were the hardest part of the execution of his plan. He needed to deliver them, and then immediately leave. Therefore, he could not spare anytime to pack, because he needed to leave in the dead of the night so noone could see his black-winged dragon. He grabbed his charcoal Pencil from a nearby rock, and swiftly began writing on the jagged, tanned pages.


	6. Into the Unknown

Hey... yeah that last chapter took a long time, and after looking at the reviews, I realized that Astrid was way ooc and I went back and changed it. I'd written that well over a year ago, but I guess I didn't go back and re-read like I should've. I'm not going to make any promises, but I will say that I'm going to try to get on a regular schedule for you guys. I MADE A FROZEN 2 REFERENCE... accidentally.

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 _Therefore, he could not spare anytime to pack, because he needed to leave in the dead of the night so noone could see his black-winged dragon. He grabbed his charcoal Pencil from a nearby rock, and swiftly began writing on the jagged, tanned pages_

It was finally happening. He'd moved all his pieces into place, and he'd prepared as much as he could for the next phase of his plan. He just hoped it would work.

It was deep into the day, a cold, orange sun setting over the horizon to give birth to a deep twighlight when Hiccup finally finished writing the letters to the three members of the tribe, regretfully signing his name on the letter headed to his mentor.

He was going to miss Gobber deeply. In fact, often times it felt like the cranky blacksmith was the only man in the village that cared for him. Not even his own father showed as much compassion towards him as the rock-toothed meathead.

The letter toward Astrid took on more of an angry tone, as well as the one meant for his father. He just couldn't understand why the vast chief refused to be accepting of him, his own son.

It hurt him on every level.

But he couldn't afford to waste time on tears, even that of remorse, he needed to escape while he still could. The moment the villagers found Toothless, they would kill him, and Hiccup would be a disgrace.

Hiccup could not let that happen to his best friend. Ever.

He quickly made his way back to the house from the cove, letters in hand. He could not waste time, the next step was crucial, and needed to be executed quickly. Once he'd gotten back to the wooden home that he refused to call his own, he quickly placed a letter on top of the furs on his father's bed, grabbed his satchel with the Berk Crest on it, and stepped out of the house for the last time.

The next part was a bit trickier. He had to go into the rickety forge that had become a second home to him. It was hard to not be slowed down by the emotional impact of what he was doing here. Here he had to say goodbye to a man that had practically raised him, and brace himself for his journey into the unknown.

Finally, it was time to deliver Astrid's letter. This part would be the worst, not because of any emotional attachment, but because of what they used to mean to each other. He wasn't prepared to deal with the memories that bombarded him when he caught the sight of her house, a large wooden home nestled into the side of a hill.

He remembered running and laughing and playing with her when they were younger. He didn't know what had happened between them, she just stopped talking to him one day. The bullying from Snotlout got worse, the twins joined in, and his life became a living hell.

He wondered where the blue-eyed wonder from his childhood had gone.

He moved quickly, hiding in the cover of the night. Climbing up to her window, he quickly climbed through and placed the letter onto her bed.

He abandoned all hopes of her return long ago.

He shot out the window, jumping to the cold, hard ground. It began pouring down rain, which darkened his surroundings. It was time. He began his move back towards the cove, planning to spend as little time on this desolate, depressing island.

His auburn hair was soaked, becoming a deep brown, and the color of his eyes was virbrant, bright emerald.

He marched through the torn forest, knowing he'd only have shelter the shelter of trees until he'd reached the cove.

He stumbled, an angry red mark appearing on his hand. Thorns tore at his face, and he remembered everything he'd felt on this island he was abandoning.

 _"You'll never be good enough. You're just useless."_

 _"You? You aren't a viking. You're a runt. Noone cares for the runts."_

 _"Hiccup the Useless, what a fitting name for you!"_

He grunted, gritting his teeth and stumbling, continuing his trek through the forest that was being destroyed by the storm.

The wind battered him, and he almost fell again. The cove came into sight, and he pushed throuh, the rain whipping his face.

All the pain, all the torture he'd experienced at the hand of the people of Berk was over. He just had to make it through this dark night.

He was within ten feet of the cove, just one more push would get him there.

7 feet.

The rain began lessening, making every step forward easier for the boy.

5 feet.

The sun was rising, a golden flame resting in the sky as the night gave way to a sparkling dawn.

2 feet.

He could hear Toothless roar, and as the soaked boy entered the cove, he knew that all the hardship he'd endured had forged him into the person he was.

He might not have been strong, like a viking, but he was no longer sure he wanted to be.

His largest desire was to be brave and smart, like a dragon. Like a Night Fury.

Like Toothless.

He wrapped his satchel around him tighter, and approached the black dragon, who was playing with a small terrible terror.

"Alright bud, are you ready to go?" He said, crooked smile beaming at the poison-eyed reptile, who bouncily reflected his excitement.

He began running, throwing himself into the saddle.

It was time to leave. It was like flipping to the next chapter in a book, one that was leaving behind the heartbreak of the last.

They launched into the sky with a hearty shout and a roar, and with that, the two flew, man and dragon, into the unknown.

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Sorry for the shorter chapter, but hey! At least I'm posting again right?


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